


this is what falling in love feels like

by foxerica (ericaismeg)



Series: rare ships [45]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ericaismeg/pseuds/foxerica
Summary: Trigger warnings: discussions about sexual assault/rape, mentions of current topics such as black lives matter, police brutality, abeiesm, and HB2)





	this is what falling in love feels like

##  **_this is what falling in love feels like_ **

## ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿ ❀

Lydia stretches her legs out, letting the strange hands try to fix her up so she looks absolutely perfect for the cameras. Someone’s fixing her lipstick, rubbing the edge of their finger tip along her bottom lip. She doesn’t bother looking at them anymore. She used to get to know them all by name, used to know all their stories and things about their families. These days it’s too hard to keep track of because she’s _tired._  She’s _exhausted._  She wants to take a break. But the daughter of the president never gets a break.

Suddenly, her chair is spinning around and she’s facing six cameras and the talk show host. Lydia’s smile is perfect. She knows that her face looks relaxed and her wave is an effortless example of how kind and sweet she is. A red light flashes on and the talk show starts introducing her. Lydia’s lines are all rehearsed and she speaks without thinking about it much. The truth of the matter is that she works hard to ensure that she’s projecting the proper image of herself.

The world doesn’t doubt that she’s a genius, doesn’t doubt that she’s gorgeous, and they don’t doubt that she’s going to to do something unexpected. They know her by now. She’s become one of the most famous personalities. Her name is spoken more times than Lady Gaga’s when she first became a pop star sensation. Lydia knows this. She knows that she’s the first daughter of the president who has dedicated her time to talking about how the old white men of the world have been slow at becoming progressive.

The laws need to protect those who are minorities for their sexuality, religion, race, gender, and/or sex. The police officers need better and stronger training to avoid all the brutality against blacks, women, and disabled/mentally ill people. The statistics of men getting away with sexual harassment and assault needs to change - there needs to be a change. Women need to feel safe coming forward about attacks. _Men_  also need to feel safe coming forward about attacks. The laws for trans people needs to be updated to protect them. Schooling needs to become affordable again. Kids who live in poverty, foster homes, or on the street need better protection. Homeless people need safer options - none of these anti-homeless spikes that cities have been putting up. Gun laws need to change. It’s an endless list.

Everything she stands for always comes up in interviews. Everything she believes in has been repeated hundreds, thousands of times. She’s still here, fighting the good fight. And she’s exhausted.

So far, her mother - the president - has made enough changes to spark conversations everywhere. Positive changes. But it’s not enough. Lydia keeps telling the media it’s not enough. They have to do _more._  They have three more years to make the country a better, safer place.

“So Miss Martin,” the interviewer says, “I hear that you’ve slipped up and were caught making out with a gentleman in the shadows at at party last night.”

Lydia’s expression freezes for a moment. Then she lets out a loud scoff. “Are you _kidding_  me? That was some creep who shoved me against the side of the house because he wanted to have his way with the president’s daughter.”

She stands up, brushing the skirt of her dress and looks at the talk show host in the eye. The lady doesn’t know what to say. Her expression has gone from teasing to horror.

“Thank you for this opportunity to talk, but this interview is now over,” Lydia says, nodding once. She glances at the sign. _The Erica Reyes Show._  Oh, that’s right. That’s where she is right now. She’s always liked Erica’s personality. Until now, she supposes.

“Wait, wait!” the show host says. She stands up and puts her hand on Lydia’s forearm, stopping her. Lydia looks at her. “I’m so sorry, Miss Martin. I had no idea. I just saw the headlines this morning on my way into work. I didn’t realize–please, will you stay? I would like to share something with you.”

Lydia studies Erica for a long moment. She’s sure all of the talk show employees and mangers are holding their breaths. Then she says, “Okay. But I retain the right to leave at any moment.”

“Yes, of course,” Erica says. “Please, Miss Martin. Hear me out.”

Lydia sits back down and Erica looks nervous. She rubs her hands together, takes a deep breath, and says, “I have epilepsy. It’s more manageable now. I’m on really great medication. But it’s been a long journey trying to get it all right. I have to be careful when I’m working here that none of the lights triggers a seizure. But I wasn’t always lucky.”

Erica continues, looking solely at Lydia now. “When I was younger, the seizures would leave me disoriented for _hours._  They were always terrifying and horrible and for a while, I just blacked out for a bit. I was seeing this guy…he was nice enough. He looked past the epilepsy and saw me. Or at least, that’s what I thought. We went to a party one night. I must have only been sixteen. He was twenty. I had a seizure. Fell to the floor, hit my head, and I was out for hours. When I woke up and everything started to become clearer…”

Lydia holds her breath.

“I was naked and there was a used condom beside me. The guy had told me that he left me because I wasn’t exciting enough in the sack for him.”

Lydia reaches out, grabbing Erica’s hand tightly, and nods. This is something she can understand - to some extent - and this is why she’s been fighting so hard for this to be a topic of conversation.

Erica takes a deep breath, letting out an awkward laugh and rubbing her eyes dry with her free hand. “Wow, okay. I’ve never actually told anyone that before…except my husband, Vernon. Now I’ve just told the president’s daughter _and_  anyone watching this right now.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Erica. I know that must have been incredibly hard and I appreciate it. Last night…last night isn’t the first time something has happened to me like that. Usually, I have body guards around. But I like to ditch them sometimes. It’s stupid, but I don’t know if anyone realizes just how hard it is to always have someone around _all_  the time. I have no privacy. My entire life is shared with the world. So I leave sometimes.”

“I’ve heard the stories,” Erica says, choking on a laugh. “Like you showing up at that 8 year old girl’s birthday party to surprise her because of the letter she wrote you - and your body guards getting fired because of it.”

Lydia ducks her head, ashamed a little. “Yeah. That wasn’t necessarily the best decision I made. But Malia was _super duper_  cute and it was worth it for her smile. I ensured that those body guards got even better jobs so they could support their families and themselves. But I left last night and someone followed me. Sometimes I forget that I’m the president’s daughter, y’know? I’m just _Natalie’s_  daughter.”

“Do you know who he was?” Erica asks, her voice shaking a little. She’s clearly overwhelmed. Lydia squeezes her hand a little tighter.

“No. He was some faceless man. He shoved me against the side of the house. It wasn’t until the paparazzi showed up and started snapping pictures that he took off.” Lydia takes a deep breath. “He just shoved his tongue down my throat. He didn’t get any further, but…it’s not an experience I’d wish on my worst enemy.”

“No, it’s not. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“Thank you for sharing your story with me, Erica.”

“You know, Lydia, you are the reason I felt comfortable discussing it. You believe so passionately in the fact that the world needs to change their laws so women can come forward about assault and rape…and I hope you know you’re so inspiring. I appreciate you sharing your story with me. I know it can’t be easy in your position.” Erica inhales sharply. “Wow, okay. This interview got more real than I expected. I think I need a commercial break to collect myself.”

The red light goes off.

“Your career is going to skyrocket because of that interview,” Lydia murmurs.

“That’s not why–”

“I know,” Lydia assures her, because she does know. There’s something about the honest words from Erica that makes her feel safer. “Thank you. I really needed that. I should probably go call my mom…she’s going to fire my body guards _again_  and it’s not their fault.”

“Lydia?”

“Yeah?”

“I know this is kind of a long shot and stuff, but…would you want to get dinner sometime?” Erica asks. “I’d like you to meet my husband. And properly thank you.”

“I’d love that. Here.” Lydia fishes into her purse. She pulls out a pen and a business card for the White House’s general information. She writes down her cell phone and hands it to her. “But you’ve got to promise that anything said off your show never makes it on your show.”

“Promise,” Erica says, nodding.

“Come here,” Lydia says, reaching her arms out to give Erica a hug. There’s a moment when Lydia feels like a normal person hugging their friend.

 

## ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿ ❀

 

There are suddenly thousands of women coming forward and sharing their stories all over social media, tagging Lydia in them. Thanking her for speaking up. Thanking her for sharing. They tag Erica too, and talk about how brave she was to _stop_  the president’s daughter and share her story.

It’s overwhelming, but Lydia is grateful that people are feeling empowered and sharing their heartbreak.

Her mother, however, does not feel the same way. She’s proud of Lydia for speaking up, for making a difference, and for coming forward about her attack. She’s disappointed she had to find out on national news. She’s disappointed that Lydia left her bodyguards _again,_  and she’s disappointed that her bodyguards let this happen. Lydia listens through sixteen minutes of her mother speaking about how this is why she doesn’t ditch her bodyguards. But then Natalie sits down beside her and just hugs her. She speaks about a time she was assaulted when she was younger. Lydia’s heart breaks into a thousand pieces as her mother tells her she wishes she had been as brave as Lydia was to speak up about it.

It means she gets a new security team though. Lydia is frustrated and annoyed. She sits alone in her bedroom until her mother knocks on the door and instructs her to come meet her new team.

She walks with her down the hall and enters the office.

“Lydia, please meet the head of your new team - Derek Hale. His employees are Vernon Boyd, Allison Argent, and Jackson Whittemore. There are also a few others that you’ll meet over the week, but these members will be your core,” her mother tells her. “You are _not_  to ditch them, okay?”

“Don’t worry, she won’t be able to,” Derek says. Lydia stares at him. A little annoyed, a little intrigued. He’s absolutely _gorgeous._  Looks a little dangerous too. She raises an eyebrow at his confidence. “Miss Martin.”

“Lydia. If you’re going to be watching me shower, we might as well be on a first name basis,” Lydia says, holding out her hand.

“I have no intentions of watching you shower,” Derek answers, shaking her hand back. She holds it a moment too long, stepping forward.

“Too bad,” she whispers.

His expression never changes and he takes his hand from her. He turns to her mother and says, “Your daughter will be safe with us.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hale.”

Lydia has a feeling nothing is going to be the same.

 

## ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿ ❀

 

She’s not wrong. She spends time with Erica and her husband, Boyd - who happens to be the same Vernon Boyd on Derek’s body guard team. Erica’s probably the first friend she’s made since becoming the president’s daughter. She finds herself relaxed around her. Boyd doesn’t leave them alone entirely, but he sits in the kitchen while Lydia sprawls out on Erica’s couch and Erica curls up in her chair. They talk. It’s not just the talk that she’s expected to have as a president’s daughter. It’s the talk between two girl friends - a bond that so few men can truly understand.

Derek’s around, but he doesn’t hover like all of her other body guards did. He’s just there, in the background. Sometimes, he’ll gently touch her back and lead her away from a situation. Sometimes, Lydia will forget he’s there at all. She’s surprised. All of his employees act similarly.

Allison’s super nice. She feels like a friend more than a body guard (even though Lydia would never willing mess with her). Jackson and Lydia bicker a lot, but honestly? It makes her feel more human, so she really likes Jackson’s company. Boyd is quiet, but great company.

Derek though. Derek’s something else. Lydia can’t quite put her finger on it until one night, when they’re all alone in her kitchen. It’s two in the morning, and you would _think_  that she could sneak downstairs without him following her but you’d be wrong.

“You really don’t need to follow me down here. I’m safe here,” Lydia points out to him as she opens a cupboard to find a box of cereal.

He doesn’t respond for a moment. Not until she’s pouring milk into her bowl. Then he says, “I saw your interview with Erica.”

Lydia looks at him. “Everyone’s seen that.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you felt safe leaving the party too,” Derek tells her, his voice quiet. “I don’t want that to ever happen to you again, Miss Martin.”

“Lydia,” she instantly corrects before she feels the weight of his words. Then she reaches out to put her hand on his. His entire body goes still. “Thank you, Derek. That means a lot to me.”

From that moment on, things shift between them. Lydia doesn’t mind him around her, and in fact, she starts actively seeking him out. When he sticks to the shadows, giving her space that he probably feels like she deserves, she goes into them to find him. She starts leaning against him when she’s tired, and talking to him when she’s bored.

They almost become inseparable. Lydia knows that Derek would give his life for hers without a moment of hesitation and she’s starting to think that it has nothing to do with his job. They talk in quiet whispers during limo rides from place to place. On their first airplane ride together, Lydia learns that Derek’s a nervous flyer. She sits beside him and holds his hand. After that, it becomes a habit. A routine. She starts to bring crossword puzzles with her so they can do them when they’re in the air to keep his mind distracted.

Lydia’s not sure when it happened or why, but the desperate need to get away from her body guards is gone. That is, until she realizes it’s been _thirteen months_  and she hasn’t been alone for longer than two minutes when she’s in the washroom.

The itching feeling to escape comes back.

She doesn’t know how to voice it to her team. Doesn’t know how to let them know that she has to get out of here.

So she doesn’t.

 

## ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿ ❀

 

Escaping from Jackson’s view was easy enough. He’d been talking quietly to Allison, having gotten used to Lydia’s relaxed manner around them. She’d excused herself casually to go to the washroom and neither of them had even questioned it or followed her down the hall. It wasn’t their fault. This was the relationship they had built together.

Popping the screen in the bathroom was even easier. She’d done it how many times before? She climbs out and lands behind the bushes. Making her way around the edge of the White House, she finds herself near the only section of the property that didn’t have a camera on it. Becoming friends with Danny, the security camera manager, had been easy. Learning where the cameras didn’t cover had been easier.

Lydia misses having a challenge.

She picks up a bag that she’d left hidden in one of the bushes two years ago for escaping. _Of course,_  it hadn’t been touched. The gardener was so lazy. He trimmed the top of the bushes and the front of them, but never behind them where they were against the fence. She pulls on her new set of clothes, leaving behind her old ones.

And then she pushes the wood of the fence. She’d loosened the nails on them a while ago, allowing herself to sneak out.

Funny how after all this time, her mother and body guards had never figured out how she got out.

She inhales deeply and smiles. Freedom. God, it feels so good. Part of her wonders what Derek’s up to right now. It’s his day off. But she knows that’d only be asking for trouble.

Lydia ends up at Erica’s house. Honestly, where else would she have gone? She’d spent two hours people watching from the window of a Starbucks. It’d been interesting until it hadn’t been.

“Lydia!”

“Listen, I needed to get away.”

“Alright,” Erica says, yanking her into her house. “C’mon. Let me just tell Boyd you’re safe. He got an alert and took off in a hurry.”

“Okay. But can we go for a drive or something? I don’t want anyone coming to pick me up or–” She stops talking when she glances out the living room window and sees a car pull up across the street. It looks familiar, but she can’t exactly place where she’s seen it before.

Then it hits her.

“Never mind. Derek already knows where I am.”

Erica looks out the window at her and shrugs. “He’s good at his job, babe. I’m sorry.”

“God. I just want a few hours alone.” Lydia storms out of Erica’s house and across the street. She doesn’t need to knock on his window, because he sees her coming and lowers it before she arrives. “Today is your _day off.”_

“You’re the president’s daughter. It’s never my day off.”

“Did you put a GPS tracker on me or something?” Lydia demands.

“No. I didn’t need to. Once Jackson alerted me that you were gone, I knew you’d end up here. It was a matter of time,” Derek says, shrugging. “Where else are you going to go?”

Lydia hates that he gets it. He totally _gets_  it. “I just needed to…”

“I know. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll get Kira to clear your schedule tomorrow. We’ll get you a wig and Erica can do your makeup all different. You can borrow some of her clothes too. We’ll go out and do mundane things like grocery shopping and feeding ducks in a park. How does that sound?” Derek asks her.

She frowns. Because that sounds _really_  nice actually.

“Promise?”

“Promise. Now go back in and enjoy your afternoon with Erica. I’ll keep an eye out on the perimeter and I won’t send anyone in unless I need too. Deal?”

“I–deal. Turn off your special hearing device too. I don’t want you eavesdropping.” 

“I’ll check in every five minutes for fifteen seconds.”

“Deal.”

Lydia goes back into Erica’s house. They set a timer so they can talk about pointless stuff every five minutes for fifteen seconds before they go back to whatever they were discussing. Lydia spends her afternoon laughing and forgetting about all of her responsibilities. She’s never been happier.

And she’s never been more tired. She ends up passing out on Erica’s couch, and doesn’t wake when Derek carries her to his car and drives her home. When she does open her eyes a little, confused and disoriented, Derek is laying her down in her bed.

“Night, handsome.”

She sort of sees a smile on his lips. Just before she drifts back to sleep, she hears him say, “Night, beautiful.”

 

## ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿ ❀

 

Their day off turns out to be the best day of Lydia’s life. She wears a blonde wig, dark sunglasses, red lipstick, and a dress from Erica’s closet. Derek grabs the kitchen’s shopping list and takes Lydia out to a busy store. They walk around, getting the items they need, and some they don’t. Lydia feels a knot in her chest start to loosen when no one recognizes her.

They take the food back to the White House, unload, and then Derek packs them a picnic basket. She watches with surprise. How did he just completely understand her need to do something mundane? She smiles when he tells her to hop in the driver’s seat.

She hits the gas, and he has to remind her that even she has to abide by the speed limits. Lydia giggles when he starts telling her stories about his little sister, Cora, and she thinks he’s completely delightful when he directs her to a small park along a lake.

They set up the blanket and basket. Enjoy a lunch that they’d made together. Lydia leans back on her hands and basks in the sunlight beaming down on her.

“Is this what you needed?”

“This is exactly what I needed. Thank you, Derek.”

“I’ve been watching you a lot longer than when I started working for you. I saw your interview with Erica all that time ago, Lydia. I saw a woman who puts herself out there time and time again, selflessly, never asking for anything except a break here and there. Your interview was the reason I pitched my team to your mom. I never wanted anything like that to happen to you again,” Derek tells her.

She smiles.

They don’t talk for a while, but they don’t need to. He pulls out some slices of bread so she can run down to the lake and feed the ducks. He doesn’t follow her, but keeps an eye out from behind.

Lydia feels tension rush out of her when a mother duck brings her five ducklings over to get some bread. She’s laughing with these innocent animals, and for the moment, everything is perfect.

“Excuse me,” a little voice comes from behind her. She turns to see a young girl, about seven years old. “Aren’t you the president’s daughter?”

And just like that, her perfect day’s bubble has been popped. She nods, signs something for the girl, and then her mother comes over to take a photo of them together.

“Thank you so much,” the mother says, ushering the daughter away.

Lydia stands there, the last few pieces of bread falling from her hand. She hugs herself with one arm and watches the mother and daughter walk towards the parking lot. People are suddenly looking at her, as if they’re trying to figure out just who she could be.

Derek’s walking towards her. He slips his hand on her lower back and steps close to her. His voice is hushed when he says, “We should go, Miss Martin.”

Tears prick her eyes, but she nods. She waits in the car, her sweater over her face so no one can see her face, while he cleans up their picnic. When he gets into the car, she looks out the window and says nothing.

“Lydia, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m the president’s daughter. It’s to be expected, Mr. Hale.”

He stays quiet after that, and nothing can be heard except the radio on low and Lydia’s sniffles from crying.

 

## ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿ ❀

 

Things go back to normal. As normal as her normal is, anyway. Lydia continues to do interviews after interviews. She continues to fly around to different parts of America to participate in protests, to speak for those whose voices can’t seem to be heard loud enough, and she flies to England with her family to meet the Queen. That’s a long trip that she spends silently with Derek and his team. She doesn’t sit beside him on the plane, but that’s his choice and not hers.

When she gets back from England, she goes over to Erica’s house and curls up on her couch. Derek sits on the porch outside, talking with Boyd. He checks in with them every five minutes for fifteen seconds. Lydia times her sobs around that. Erica hugs her and rubs her arms.

“I think I love him,” Lydia murmurs. “I think…I think I love him and I think something between us broke. I don’t know how to fix it.”

Erica kisses her hair and whispers, “It’ll work itself out. It will. I promise.”

Lydia isn’t sure. She can’t even explain what had happened between them because _nothing_  had happened.

But she leans on Erica, grateful to have a friend.

 

## ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿ ❀

 

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” Lydia demands when she’s called into her mother’s office. Derek had been sitting there already and Natalie informed her that Derek’s leaving her team.

“Miss Martin–”

“Lydia!” she screams. “My name is _Lydia.”_

 _“Lydia,”_  her mother says, tone sharp. “Derek has another job offer and he must take it, okay?”

“No. No, it’s not okay. For once, I don’t hate my body guard, and now you’re taking him away from me? I hate this. I hate this. I _hate_  it. I’m done. I’m out.”

Lydia knows she’s acting irrationally, but she can’t stop herself if she tried. She leaves. She grabs her cell phone - turning it off so that they can’t track her - her blonde wig, and a bag she’d packed months ago. She gets into one of the cars, and before anyone can stop her, she zips out of the property.

She picks up Erica on her way to nowhere, and they end up somewhere in Texas. Lydia doesn’t even care anymore. She just needed to leave. And if she has Erica with her, her family would rest knowing she’s okay.

She ignores phone calls from her mother, but texts her to say she’s fine and she’ll be back in a week.

For whatever reason, no one comes for them. Erica has her show run reruns all week with the promise of the best breaking interview to hit the TV in years. Lydia agrees it’s the least she can do.

 

## ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿ ❀

 

When they roll back into town,  Lydia is expecting everyone to yell at her. But her mother just hugs her tightly and whispers, “I love you.” Boyd, Jackson, and Allison all smile and greet her as if she hadn’t had the world’s biggest temper tantrum.

She unpacks her clothes - and the new items she’d bought while in San Antonio, and sits on her bed. Derek’s actually gone.

Lydia closes her eyes and wishes she could’ve stopped him.

She misses him.

But it doesn’t matter. She owes Erica the interview of a lifetime. So she gets ready, for once she does her makeup on her own, and fixes her hair up the way she likes it.

Allison drives her to the studio and wishes her luck.

“Well, guys, I am back! Did you all miss _The Erica Reyes Show_  while I was off on a crazy adventure?” Erica announces, smiling at the cameras. Lydia can hear the cheers from the live audience and smiles. She watches as Erica walks around to greet guests on the screen. When she comes back to her stage, she blows kisses to her audience. “Alright, well, I’m sure you all read the tabloids. But I’m here today with Lydia to talk to you about our adventure first hand!”

Lydia steps out onto the stage. She waves and gives Erica a huge hug. Then they sit down.

“I feel like my show was boring before you,” Erica jokes.

Lydia shakes her head, amused. “No way, you held your own without me. But I am happy to be back, discussing happier topics.”

It’s not much of an interview as it is a discussion of their week and a half away together. They’re sharing stories and laughing at inside jokes. They tease one another, and answer questions from the audience.

A girl stands up and asks, “Is it true you went on a secret date with your head of security at a park?”

Lydia raises her eyebrows. Thinking about Derek had left her with an ache in her chest. She smiles, hoping no one can read the heart break on her face. “I did go to the park with Derek Hale, the ex-head of my security. Was it a secret date? Well, you’d have to ask him because if it was, it was a secret from even me.”

Murmurs break out over the crowd and then someone else stands up. “Why did you need to get away? You used to talk about how much you love doing this.”

“Doesn’t everyone need a break from what they love doing? Sometimes it’s overwhelming. Sometimes it’s too heartbreaking. Sometimes it’s just downright exhausting. There is so much work to be done, and even the president’s daughter needs a break to get some rest.”

“You guys have no idea how much work Lydia actually does. I’ve seen her behind the scenes. Her schedule is packed down to the minute.” Erica shakes her head. “No one’s life should be that busy.”

“Now that I have you, I’ve learned to carve a little more time out for friends,” Lydia tells her, smiling.

“I love you, boo.”

“Love you more,” Lydia answers, grinning.

“There’s another question here–” Erica says, pointing at someone. “This might have to be our last one, since Lydia and I still have much to discuss.”

Lydia’s eyes land on a woman. She looks familiar, but she can’t place where she would know her from. “Hi there!”

“Hi, Miss Martin,” the woman says, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Can you tell us what happened or didn’t happen between you and your head of security? I don’t mean to pry into your personal life, but…you’re leaving a bunch of us wondering if you’ve found love.”

Lydia’s face heats up. Erica says, “I’m not sure she’s going to want to answer that. That’s one of the reasons we went on vacation - because sometimes, personal life stuff just needs to stay personal.”

“No, Erica, it’s okay. I’ll say this: nothing happened between me and Derek Hale. Does that mean that I didn’t wonder what would happen if something had? No. Does that mean that I don’t miss him? No. Does that mean…that I haven’t found love? No. I don’t know what happened between us. I don’t know why suddenly our entire relationship changed. Maybe I felt something he didn’t, and he did the smart thing by stepping back. What I do know is that love is always all around us. Sometimes it just takes us a little longer to see it,” Lydia answers.

The woman doesn’t sit down right away. “What did you feel when you found out that he went undercover and tracked down the man who assaulted you?”

Lydia’s lips part. She looks at Erica. “He did _what?”_

Erica looks just as surprised as she does. “I’m sorry, how do you know that?”

“I–I just heard it from somewhere.”

Lydia feels the entire room go still. Silence covers it. No one speaks until she says, “You’re his sister. You’re Cora Hale.”

“Yeah.”

“Your brother found him?” Lydia whispers.

“Yeah. Last week. I thought you would’ve heard…”

“No. No, I hadn’t.”

“Jeez, I’m going to have to rename my show to The Most Dramatic Show On Air,” Erica says, and gains a few laughs from the audience. “Lydia, you know what you have to do, right?”

“I have to find the love of my life,” Lydia says, laughing. She puts her hands up to her face. “Oh my god. Oh my god. _Oh my god, Erica._  What do I _say?”_

“I don’t think you need to say anything. You two have never had to say anything to understand one another,” Erica points out. “Just go, tell him you love him, and have the hottest make-out of your life.”

Lydia laughs, hugs Erica, and stands up. “Wish me luck!”

Erica holds up her hands and says, “No paparazzi is allowed to follow her. There are somethings that must be done in private. If I found out that you’ve followed her, I will personally make you regret it somehow.”

The audience goes wild. Cora winks. Erica’s staff are also cheering. Lydia walks swiftly off the stage, tells Boyd to take her to Derek. He leads her out of the studio, laughing, and saying, “Took you long enough.”

 

## ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿ ❀

 

Boyd drives her to his house. It’s small, quaint, and really fucking cute. She’s nervous, but Boyd doesn’t let her sit in his car for very long before he kicks her out. She’s laughing until she has to walk down the pathway to the front door. Lydia shakes as she knocks on Derek’s door.

“Boyd drives pretty slow, huh?” Derek asks, when he opens the door. Lydia’s taken aback.

“You were watching?”

“I’m always watching. Didn’t you know that? It’s my job,” Derek tells her. He lets her step in before he shuts the door. He’s standing awfully close to her.

Her voice grows quiet as she says, “It’s not your job anymore. You quit.”

“Well, I did think it’d be pretty awkward telling the president that I’m in love with her daughter,” Derek tells her. He brushes a piece of her hair out of her face. “Seeing as that’s my boss’s daughter and my assignment. It didn’t really sit well with me.”

“But–when were you going to tell me?”

“Right about when you found out that I would no longer be part of your security team, except you might have run out on me before I had a chance to,” Derek tells her. She’s close to him. So close.

Lydia lifts her face to look at him. “Derek, I’m sorry. I just–”

“You had to do you. Don’t apologize, Lyds.”

Her lips curl up at the nickname. God, they’ve come so far. “Kiss me, Derek?”

“Glad to,” Derek murmurs. He leans down and captures her lips with his. Lydia thinks, _this is what falling in love feels like._

## ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿ ❀

 

“So I have a surprise guest star today!” Erica announces on her show. “It’s been almost a year since she was here last, discovering that she was madly in love with her body guard. Please welcome my best friend, Lydia Martin.”

Lydia steps out onto the stage. Cheers come from the audience. She hugs Erica, settles in her seat, and glances to the left to see her boyfriend standing there. He nods, and she knows she can do anything. “Erica, it’s always an honour to be on your show. How’s the pregnancy coming along?”

“Oh, it’s fabulous when I’m not suffering from morning sickness and yelling at Boyd to help me to the bathroom,” Erica says, putting her hand on her stomach. Laughter surrounds them and Lydia knows she’s lucky to be here. There’s no longer a desire to run away.

“Boyd has never looked happier,” Lydia confides to her.

Erica beams at the statement. “You know what? He said the same about me the other day.”

“It’s true.”

“Alright, so let’s get right into it! Last night, you were at a protest to overturn a law that forces trans people to use the washroom that matches their sex on their ID cards…”

“It’s one of the stupidest laws I’ve ever heard of and let me tell you why,” Lydia says. This time it’s not perfectly rehearsed. This time her words are filled with passion and emotion. This time she’s urging people to buy the _You can pee with me_  t-shirts. This time, she’s wiping tears from her eyes because it’s been an emotional 24 hours instead of a boring routine.

“Lydia Martin, ladies, gentlemen, and other people!” Erica says, clapping when Lydia attempts to dry her eyes.

The audience goes wild.

 

## ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿ ❀


End file.
